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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019258">Discipline</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose'>GemmaRose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Begging, Breeding, Creampie, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Overheating, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:01:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When you break the rules, you get punished. Hot Rod knows this better than most.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hot Rod/Unicron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Discipline</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hot Rod trembled, legs shaking as he paced the length of his room, lubricant trickling in a steady stream down his inner thighs. He knew what this was, knew why it was happening, could even pinpoint when it had started. He had ‘faced with one of the monsters Unicron lured in to experiment on, while Unicron’s attention was spread out across his planetary surface. Worse, he’d done it without asking permission. Unicron hated him to interface with anyone but himself, which was totally a reasonable thing to ask of a berthmate who lived in your home and drank your fuel. And so, the punishment. One decacycle without interfacing. A totally reasonable punishment, really.</p><p>Except that Unicron hadn’t mentioned that it would be a decacycle spent <i>in heat</i>. His previous heats, before he found Unicron’s lair and agreed to stay, had only ever lasted a few cycles at most, and that only when he’d been too addled to find something to frag him senseless and make it <i>stop</i>. He was stronger now, better able to handle the ravages of an unsated heat, but that didn’t explain why it was still going half a decacycle in. Unless Unicron was giving him inducer-laced fuel, but surely his lover knew that was dangerous. Unicron was a brilliant mech, both in processor and in berth-related skills, he couldn’t be foolish enough to gamble Rodimus’s continued functioning on this.</p><p>For five cycles now, his core temperature had been rising, his forge cramping with emptiness, his array burning with need that fingers alone could not sate. Nor could toys, if he’d had any. No, what he needed was a spike, something long and thick enough to fill him utterly, pulsing with living charge, attached to transfluid tanks that matched or exceeded the capacity of his forge. He needed a good hard frag, needed it so bad he could barely think past the burn of it, the code screaming at him to find the nearest spike and jump on it, take what he needed. The heat coding didn’t understand that he <i>couldn’t</i>, that he was stuck in this room until Unicron was sure he’d learnt his lesson.</p><p>His legs gave out between one step and the next, but even the floor wasn’t cool enough to bring relief to his aching frame. He sobbed into the floor, hips raised, valve trembling and clenching on nothing. “Please.” he whimpered, pawing blindly at his recessed spike, deactivated by the heat coding after the first cycle of fruitlessly attempting to bleed off his charge through it. “Unicron, please.”</p><p>“You agreed, my little flame.” his lover’s voice came from all around him, resonating in his core, making his valve clench even tighter on nothing, the emptiness drawing a pained cry from his vocaliser. “Drink as much or little as you like, I will not touch you until you have served your penance.”</p><p>Hot Rod whined pitifully into the floor, grabbing at his swollen node and crying out at the shock it sent through his frame. He brought himself to overload with it for what felt like the thousandth time, and the burning pain didn’t abate but he managed to push himself up onto his elbows, raise his helm to see a fresh cube of energon sitting in the niche in the wall. It swirled cloudy with coolant he desperately needed, but its shimmer promised hidden properties. It could alter his proportions, or his kibble. Could effect the tuning of his sensornet, or change his colour. Most likely though, it would simply compound the heat he was already suffering.</p><p>But it had coolant, and even a mech of his abilities couldn’t withstand a prolonged heat without topping off on coolant. He crawled over to the dispenser, whimpering as his thighs rubbed against each other and the engorged length of his node, building his charge so fast he had to stop and wring another overload from the abused, oversized sensor cluster before he could pull himself to his pedes. He knocked back the cube in one go, and for one blessed moment at least is fuel tank didn’t feel like it was on fire. Then the heat in his array redoubled, and he fell to his knees with a wail as the familiar tingle of change swept over the plating between his thighs, his valve drooling so much lubricant it looked like a perverse oilfall between his thighs.</p><p>The mesh around his rim seemed to swell before his optics, too, and at a cautious touch his hips bucked involuntarily. Far more sensitive, though whether that would fade with the heat or not, he couldn’t be sure. At least it hadn’t done anything to his chest; getting a good view of his array was hard enough as it was, and if his breasts grew much further there was a very real risk he wouldn’t be able to transform. He rocked his hips up against his fingers again, and let his optics flicker off, trying to at least eek an overload out of the raw, oversensitive nodes at the front of his valve.</p><p>---</p><p>After the sixth cycle, Hot Rod lost track of time. He drank as much coolant as Unicron provided, drank until his fuel tank hurt, but it only prolonged his suffering. His whole frame ached, from his vents to his struts even to his optics, which were so hot the cleanser evaporated before it could well out and be used. His whole array, from the surface all the way to the depths of his forge, felt like liquid fire, and now he couldn’t even get more than two fingers into his valve without wailing. His calipers had stuck at their tightest setting, and any resistance at all was too much for his abused sensors.</p><p>He barely registered the cool touch on his plating until he was already off the floor, Unicron’s many tentacles cradling his frame, bearing him before his patient lover's avatar. “Look at you.” Unicron’s voice rumbled around him, making him whine and flinch, too burnt-out to move. “So desperate for my touch.” a cool tentacle rubbed against his valve rim, squishing lubricant out of the sodden mesh, and Hot Rod <i>screamed</i>. “Yes, I think you have learnt your lesson, my flame.”</p><p>“Yes.” he rasped, trembling in anticipation, his whole being focused on the cool, delicate touch circling his burning valve. “Yes, Uni-i-i-cron.” his vocaliser stuttered, then went out completely as the spike- a spike, a real, actual spike- plunged into him, forcing open every caliper so fast the rush of charge shorted out most of his systems which had still been functioning.</p><p>“Mm, I think I like you like this.” Unicron purred, the slender tips of his tentacles wriggling into Hot Rod’s seams, coiling around his abused nozzles, teasing the tip of his recessed spike. “Desperate for my touch, begging for my mercy.” he began to move the spike in Hot Rod’s valve, and when a tentacle pressed against his lips Hot Rod opened for it eagerly, letting it thrust into his mouth, dribbling straight coolant onto his glossa. “You were made for this. Made for me.” Unicron’s voice shivered in his processor, and Hot Rod was sure that the words were true.</p><p>He pushed his field out, layering it with a silent plea for <i>more</i>, and Unicron laughed. “Truly, a perfect match for me.” he rumbled, the spike in Hot Rod's valve stilling as a second worked itself way inside, the tentacles around his legs pulling them wider and wider until the whole spike was in him, the calipers at his rim now stuck on their widest setting. “Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you? Stuffed full, and still begging for more. I could frag your mouth until you choked, fill your fuel tank so full you purge, and still you would present yourself to me.”</p><p>Hot Rod could only tremble, valve clenching frantically as Unicron began to move the spikes in it ever so slowly, a gentle rocking which did absolutely nothing to stop his heat from crashing back into him at full force. “Would you carry for me, Hot Rod?” Unicron asked, the spikes in Hot Rod’s valve rocking on an alternating rhythm, taking turns kissing the unsealed opening of his forge. “Would you carry tessons?”</p><p>One of Unicron's spikes slipped just the slightest bit into his inner port, and Hot Rod overloaded with a binary shriek, calipers clamping down vice-tight on the spikes within him. Unicron’s pace didn’t so much as falter.</p><p>“Of course you would.” he said, as if Hot Rod’s processor wasn’t swimming in the aftermath of his overload. As if he could respond anyways, with the coolant tentacle still filling his mouth, now trickling steadily down his intake. “That’s what you were forged for. Your frame is just perfect for it, Hot Rod. Your valve can take my spikes, and it will bear me <i>monsters</i>.”</p><p>Hot Rod spasmed again as a tentacle coiled around his anterior node, and then Unicron burst into motion, the spikes in his valve pounding away, ripping overload after overload from Hot Rod’s frame, until finally, <i>finally</i>, one slammed right into his internal port and unleashed a flood of transfluid directly into his forge. Hot Rod’s vocaliser shorted out completely, and he bluescreened.</p><p>He came back online still cradled in Unicron’s tentacles, his frame trembling with the aftershocks of yet another overload, the heat coding sated by his pleasantly full tank but his frame still thrumming with charge, valve filled perfectly to capacity by one of Unicron’s many tentacles, the tip sealed to his internal port, holding it open without letting it drain. The tentacle shivered, a ripple travelling up its length, and Hot Rod spat static as it entered him. He felt his abdominal plating flex, forge bowing outwards as the pressure inside reached its limit, and Unicron purred.</p><p>“Yes, you will make a <i>wonderful</i> carrier.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies to any not-logged-in readers, but due to an ex who refuses to leave me alone I have had to disable anon comments. Kudos are still open though, and if you want to scream (or would like me to write a fic for you) come check me out on Pillowfort! No account required to get my discord, and I'm always happy to chat. [<a href="https://www.pillowfort.social/GemmaRose">Link</a>]</p></blockquote></div></div>
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